We do not know the things God has in store,
Nor glimpse as yet the thoughts that will unfold
When tribulation, pain, and trials sore
Give place to heaven's blessings, joys untold.
What must we do to hasten the glad day
When all obstructions—veils which hide our God—
Are swept by Love's victorious hosts away,
And thoughts uplift us far above the sod?
The promise stands which centuries ago
The Master gave to students standing by,
"Lo, I am with you alway;" this to know
Brings all we ever prayed for here and nigh.
And when we prove this presence is at hand,
The light of glory rises o'er the land.
No stubborn sin, no sickness or distress,
No loss or sadness, bitterness or pride,
Can long endure, nor hauntingly possess
Our thoughts and actions; these cannot abide
Where understanding spreads its searching light,
And omnipresence enters undeterred.
The work is done! No longer need we fight
With force of will, with fear and anguish spurred.
Fling wide the doors, and let the Saviour in;
The Son of God is known by us at last,
The cleansing fires of heaven wipe out all sin,
Whose mantle purloined, dark, away we cast.
And now in place of sad mortality,
The era dawns of blest reality.
